The Forsaken Prince
by TheStrangerThatCameFromNowhere
Summary: Guardian Uldren Sov does not remember his past. Nor is allowed to recall it. All that he knows is that the Guardians, especially the Young Wolf, don't like him. Even so, the past can't remain buried. While preparing to leave for another mission, he receives a task from Eris Morn about activity on the Moon, leading to an encounter that leaves him stranded on a forgotten world...
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER**: I do not own RWBY or Destiny. Both are properties of RoosterTeeth and Bungie respectively. I own none of the characters that appear in this series, only the original events that will transpire.

* * *

**THE FORSAKEN PRINCE**

* * *

_Hold onto hope, I'm homeward bound_

_In the darkest of night, there's Light to be found_

_From a spark will be born a fire_

_Shine through the shadow of doubt_

* * *

_**Chapter 1**_

* * *

Lock. Load. Aim. Pull the trigger. Shoot. Shoot. Shoot. Shoot. Shoot. Shoot. Reload. Lock. Load. Repeat.

The process was something he had grown familiar with. The gun, heavy, trembled and shook in his hand with each time he pulled the trigger and sent the bullet flying from its chamber. The Tangled Shore light up with each cracking boom from his hand cannon. Each shot took the head of a shriveled monster clean off, leaving blue fluids to spew from its corpse. He gave a quick look, but found himself diving for cover. Thunder and a hailstorm of blue shards came flying his way alongside the wrathful screams of the Scorned.

His lips thinned as he opened the chamber, the empty shells falling from their holes before he replaced them with new ones. Flipping the chamber back into place, he peered over the edge and pulled back, avoiding a near fatal headshot.

No, not fatal. He would come back, so long as he was with him. But he didn't want to rely on that. He had done his best to make sure he survived each and every skirmish he found himself getting involved in.

He sucked in a breath. In, out. Calm down. Cease the shaking. The roars drew closer.

The gun became swallowed in golden light. A warmth spread over him. Something in his chest was lit up, as if a fire sparked underneath his body. The gun's shape changed, but its form and function remained the same.

Thunder came crashing down upon him. He rolled away at the last second, feeling the white-hot heat brush against him before flipping to the front, aim steady and trigger primed.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

Six shots, all encased in burning yellow light, streaked across the air and struck their targets. He watched with apathy as their bodies were incinerated, reduces to little more than ashes.

The air grew still. Only the lashing winds against his cloak created any sound – a sign of a brewing storm. He looked around for any sign of reinforcements, or even the enemy, but he breathed a heavy sigh when he found no danger on the horizon.

But trouble would surely brew again. It always did.

What was it about this place? Why was he drawn to the Tangled Shore? Why were the Scorn so determined to kill him, more than any other they laid their eyes on?

Did they know something, just as the Guardians did? Or…

"Sov? Hello? Tangled Shore to Sov~"

Uldren closed his eyes. "What is it?"

"Well, not to worry you or anything, but there's a group of Guardians coming this way. They're chasing a squad of Cabal. Remnants of Red Legion, look like. Huh! Wonder what they're doing here in the Tangled Shore? Hey, wanna go check it out?"

"No. Bring the ship around. We're leaving."

He didn't want to get shot, after all. His lips curved as he moved to a safer location, one where the Guardians wouldn't find him until he had left the area. They were the same, they and he, yet they never treated him with kindness. Only anger and fury.

Not that he cared. Their anger towards him was nothing. At least, not when compared to the wolf that took great pleasure in killing him in the Crucible.

He glanced down at the hand cannon in his hand. Barrel faded white, chips in the paint, its handle and chamber painted crimson like blood.

_The __**line**__ between light and darkness is so very __**thin**__._

The words, echoed by someone, perhaps himself, rang in his head. He sucked in a breath and set the gun in his holster before pulling up his hood, vanishing into the shadows of the Tangled Shore.

* * *

His name was Uldren Sov. And as far as he knew, every Guardian hated him with a passion. Some expressed their hatred towards him with curses, but they did not resort to violence. The more subdued, but expressive ones saved the violence for the Crucible. Only a bare handful of his teammates in any of the matches he participated him were willing to try and save his skin, and even then, it was not out of kindness or empathy. It was teamwork, and nothing else. The rest didn't bother with him.

The Vanguard didn't bother with him, but Uldren knew they shared the same thoughts as the rest. Ikora Rey glared at him with unconcealed contempt, but never spoke her grievances towards him. Zavala gave him an empty stare and nothing more, but the fury in his eyes was matched by his impressive self-restraint.

The one that hated him the most was a Guardian everyone sang praises towards. Some called them the Hero of the Red War. Others called them the Young Wolf of Saladin.

Uldren dreaded every meeting and preferred to steer clear of them. He kept his visits to the Tower far and few in between, only going there when it was by necessity.

The worst part about the hatred was that Uldren didn't know _why_ they hated him.

"Guardians are not allowed to pursue their pasts and must focus on the present."

That was what they told all new Guardians. It was the rule that had been imposed upon them for who knows how long. Uldren didn't understand why the law was there, but seeing as how he had been treading thin ice since day one, he was not going to question it.

Resting comfortably in his ship, Uldren looked at the vast expanse of space. Occasionally, he'd see other ships fly past, but didn't stop and attempt to converse with him. They either knew that it was his ship and avoided him purposely, or didn't pursue him because they were in a hurry. Maybe a bit of both.

He liked the silence.

"You know, we really should head back to the Tower." The voice in the back of his head called to him. "I mean, do you realize how many Prime Engrams you have waiting to be decoded?"

"They can wait." Uldren said firmly.

The voice sighed. Soft blue light flickered into his field of vision, forming into a ball wrapped in soft purple steel, a blue glowing eye in the center.

"Sov, I love you. You know I do." Pulled Pork (Uldren still questions why anyone would accept that name) said. "But come on. You can't keep avoiding the city. No offense, but your gear can't protect you forever. I mean, they just opened up the Moon for exploration and all!"

Uldren gave his Ghost an odd look. "What are you talking about?"

"Not sure, really. Sometimes, I think I've got a glitch in me somewhere. If I can get a glitch. Hey, do you think Ghosts can have glitches?"

He shook his head, wondering if all Ghosts were this chatty.

But the little light had a point. He couldn't avoid the Tower forever. Sooner or later, he would need to replenish his supplies. Not to mention better gear.

As he prepared himself for another mentally exhausting run to the place he would never be welcomed, Pulled Pork spoke up. "Heads up! Incoming transmission."

"Who?"

"Dunno. Somebody named…Eris Morn?"

Uldren raised a brow. He knew that name, if only by reputation. One of the few experts in all things Hive, and up until now, she had not been seen in a very long time.

"Patch it through." Uldren told his little light.

Pulled Pork lowered itself, as if nodding, before it gave a small pulse of light. Moments later, the radio on his ship sparked to life.

* * *

The Moon looked as desolate as it did lonely. Save for the man-made structures that dotted its craters, and the hellish monsters that roamed its surface, the ever-present black starry void above gave it a gloomy atmosphere. Eris Morn's appearance didn't help, dressed in tattered robes with a rag of a blindfold over her face, skin as pale as the ground beneath his feet.

"…I had heard that you had become a Guardian, but seeing you for myself is an odd experience indeed."

Uldren stared at her. "You know me?"

"Only by reputation. The Uldren Sov I know was…not a pleasant man."

"Hm, you don't say?"

Pulled Pork floated over to her. "Why do you have three eyes? Are you an alien?"

"Pork!" Uldren admonished his Ghost.

Eris smiled thinly. "A story for another time. I take it you received my transmission?" He nodded. "I have felt something rather disturbing. Not from the Scarlet Keep…but from another place. Something vile and wicked is there."

"Hive, Fallen, Taken or Cabal?" Pulled Pork asked. "Please say its one of those. We've had to deal with Scorn all day."

"None of them. It is something else. Something that…once belonged to the light." Eris' face turned grim. "I fear that, whatever it is…it came because of the Scarlet Keep. I would ask an acquaintance of mine to do the work, but they are dealing with another mission I'm afraid."

Uldren nodded. He wasn't about to turn down a request for help, after all. Though the Guardians may not like him, he held nothing against them. Whatever he did in the past, he wanted to atone, whatever it may have been. However long it would take.

"Where is this anomaly?"

"In the Shrine of Oryx. Be wary, Sov… Whatever this darkness is, it is not pleasant. And will not greet you with open arms."

Uldren's lips thinned. "Neither will I."

He turned on his heel. He pulled the hood over his helmet and took out his gun – the heavy hand cannon held firmly in hand. Pulled Pork flowed back into him. Eris Morn watched him go with apprehension before she returned to the whispers. The echoes of those she once called friends.

Whatever had stirred…it was familiar to her.

It was not a good sign.

* * *

_Same meat._

_Same bones._

_But so very different._

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**: You would think that I would have better things to do. Like homework and work on other stories, but no. My muse decided to take over my hands.

Curse my inability to restrain my fingers. At this rate, I will have more stories than I can handle. That being said, I do hope you will all stick around.

There will be bullets. There will be action. There will be Guardian hijinks. There will be Uldren. But most importantly…

_There will be Cayde._


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER**: I do not own RWBY or Destiny. Both are properties of RoosterTeeth and Bungie respectively. I own none of the characters that appear in this series, only the original events that will transpire.

* * *

**THE FORSAKEN PRINCE**

* * *

_Yours._

_Not mine._

* * *

_**Chapter 2**_

* * *

Uldren had dealt with the Hive before. Whenever he faced them, there was a sense of indignation and anger in his chest, as if their presence incited anger by look alone. Perhaps in a past life, the Hive had done something to him that warranted his anger.

Regardless of his feelings, he pushed them aside. Thin Line in hand, Uldren made his way to the Shrine of Oryx, entering the Hellmouth. Along the way, he encountered black-and-red wraiths. Phantoms that echoed and whispers grievences and regrets.

"What are these things? Are they ghosts?" Pulled Pork asked. "Well, not Ghost ghosts, but you know what I mean?"

[They are Nightmares. Phantasms.] Eris Morn explained. [Traumas created by the Darkness, mimicking the worst fears the Guardians have ever known. And they are more than meager replicas. Crota. Skolas. Taniks. Omnigul. Atheon. These are but the few Phantasms we have learned of that have surfaced.]

Uldren slipped behind a rock, peering over the edge to find a wandering Knight and a pack of Thrall behind it, watching vigilantly for any signs of intruders. "Can they be killed?"

[For a time, but they will constantly reform. Until whatever has caused them to exist is destroyed. For now, find the tainted light at the Shrine of Oryx. And kill it.]

A grenade soared through the air. It bounced at the foot of the pack, and in the next second, several Thrall were burned and reduced to ashes. Uldren threw his knife, letting it stab into the head of the Knight, stunning it long enough to pop a shot at its head. It collapsed and died seconds later. The remaining Thralls were quickly dispatched in the same manner.

Lock. Load. Shoot. Reload. Repeat.

The further Uldren went down into the Hellmouth, the more oppressive and cold the air began to feel even through his armor. The Circle of Bones, where the Acolytes and Thrall were found in abundance, made his skin crawl.

"Ugh, it's so dark and danky around here. Haven't the Hive ever heard of spring cleaning? They really should spruce this place up a bit!"

Uldren ignored his Ghost and continued. He continued to shoot his way through the Hive, advancing ever forward until he was growing closer to his target.

His advance soon came to a halt when he found himself under fire. A powerful burst of purple energy had knocked him to the ground. His vision was swimming.

"Sniper! And we have a Wizard! Sov, get up!"

Uldren leaped up to his feet. The Wizard screeched as it hurled bolts of thunder his way. He rolled to evade and made a rush for one of the metal walls that lined the pathways. He looked for the source of the sniper shot and found an Acolyte hiding up above, dangling from a chandelier. It was primed for another shot and waited for him to come out.

"I'm picking up Fallen chatter. They're moving down into the Hellmouth. They're being driven into it by…ghosts? Oh, that must be the Phantasms. We should kill these things quick before we have to deal with Hive AND Fallen. And maybe Phantasms."

On that, they agreed. He already had enough to deal with than these things.

He sucked in a breath and took out the rifle slinged to his back. A mix of white and red, no different than the hand cannon now in his holster. He moved from his cover, took a look through the scope, and pulled the trigger. His bullet reached the Acolyte before it could shoot and its head was blown apart, leaving it to fall to the ground and break into pieces.

The light inside of him burned and rose to the surface. The golden gun formed in his hand, and with three shots, he turned the Wizard into smoldering remains.

"You should have saved that." Pulled Pork disapproved. "You could have killed it in one shot with your Gjallarhorn, you know."

"Don't like it." Uldren replied. "Best to save it as a last resort."

"If you say so." The Ghost shrugged and lit his way as he ventured further.

[You are nearing the tainted light.] Eris informed him once he entered the Hall of Wisdom. [This feeling… I have felt it before. But where? Its presence is familiar, at the tip of the tongue, but its identity is at the back of my mind.]

"You keep saying it's a tainted light. Does that mean it's a fallen Guardian?"

[Perhaps. There are many nightmares the Guardians have known. Some have been one of our own, who fell to the whispers. Some who forsook the light. It feels similar to a Phantasm, but…]

Uldren sighed. "We'll find out when we reach it, won't we?"

He eventually reached the long series of tubes that formed the tunnel leading him to the shrine. The tubes pulsated with dark light, flowing down to their source. Uldren walked through the tunnel, his hand firmly grasping Thin Line while the Gentleman Vagabond sat on his back, together with that oversized rocket launcher.

After dealing with several annoyances, he reached his destination.

A globe of shifting mass, spinning in the grasp of threads connected to a disk. The tubes all led to this one point, flowing into it and providing it nourishment. Not that it mattered, as its purpose had long since been removed. It had been dismantled long ago, courtesy of the Young Wolf when they were first made into a Guardian.

"Wow. That is a very, very big shrine." Pulled Pork commented. "But it looks damaged. Did it get dismantled or something?"

[Yes. By a Guardian, long ago. That dreadful light draws near. Be wary…] Eris warned.

"Pork. Back inside." Uldren ordered. His Ghost complied and fled within him. Thin Line in hand, the Awoken stepped forth inside the Shrine and searched for his target. The shadows would have provided excellent cover, but Uldren saw nothing in them.

The air was heavy. Even through his helmet, he found it hard to breath. It was almost suffocating and unbearable. And there was a dreadful chill in the air. And something else. Something he couldn't identify.

A footstep. He whipped around and aimed his gun, right at one of the entrances to inside the shrine.

"How curious…"

A voice, deep and hoarse, entered his ears. A man cloaked in shadow stepped into view, eyes burning like the will-o-wisp. He was heavily armored, but most of his body was hidden behind a tattered cloak, a hood pulled over his head. Faintly, Uldren could see what looked like a gun sitting at his hip. The man's hands were nowhere near it.

"There's a faint whiff of darkness touching you…but you've been bathing. Bathing in the light." The man stared at Uldren as he took a step forward. "You were touched by the dark, but now you're welcomed by the light. Changed. Same meat. Same bones."

A shudder ran down Uldren's back.

"…but so _very different_."

"What is he talking about?" Uldren's Ghost asked. "Eris, what's he talking about? I don't understand."

[No…] Eris whispered in horror.

Uldren kept his gun leveled. "Who are you?"

"A mirror image. The reverse." the man answered. "Chosen by the light, but I listened to the whispers. Those dark thoughts, skirting in the back of your head." His eyes burned into Uldren, making him shift uncomfortably. The words were dreadful to hear. It felt like nails were scratching on a chalkboard. "But… Can you resist it, I wonder?"

[Sov, get out of there!] Eris screamed at him, taking him off guard. [You must flee! Now!]

Pulled Pork was confused. "What? Why?"

[That is-!]

Whatever she was saying was cut off when the man, in the blink of an eye, rushed at Uldren faster than he could see and body-slammed him at full-speed like a freight train. Uldren felt the wind pull out from his lungs as he was sent flying, sliding through the floor and coughing up a storm before he recovered, pulling himself to his feet.

By the time he was up, the man had already withdrawn his gun from its holster. He recoiled at the sight of it – a metal-gray barrel lined with bones, eerie-green light pulsating from its muzzle.

"A-Are those Hive bones on his gun?" his Ghost quivered.

The man narrowed his eyes, and pulled the trigger. Uldren hit the floor and evaded it before making a mad dash for cover, dodging the bullets as they came. He slid behind cover, but only long enough to ready his gun.

Perhaps he should have taken his Ghost's advice and kept the Golden Gun ready for another time. Like now.

He heard the man rushing towards him. He leaped into the air, fist raised as arcs of lightning wrapped around his form. Uldren jumped out of the way and watched as the man hit the ground. He popped two shots, but the man dodged them with ease despite having landed in a crouch. Then he charged at Uldren again, no doubt for another rush.

He gritted his teeth and ran to meet the charge, only to divert to the wall and run across it, jumping at the height of his run and soaring through the air before he threw a grenade at the cloaked man. It touched the ground, then broke off into smaller bits and began to swarm him.

Rather than try and avoid them, the cloaked man took the bits and let them explode on his body. All while he took aim and fired. Uldren let out a scream as he felt a bullet punch a hole through his shoulder and knock him out of the air, landing atop the sphere of the shrine.

The Hunter hissed as he pulled himself up, growling and tending to his shoulder. Pulled Pork was already mending the damage. Uldren had felt many shots pierce into his body in the Crucible, but the bullets this man was shooting him with…

They felt like thorns, stabbing and worming their way into his flesh.

"Grenade!" Pulled Pork warned him.

He jumped off the sphere and let the grenade explode where he once was – a bursting cloud of thunder and lightning. Uldren searched for the man again. He was nowhere in sight, but he was surely somewhere. Lying in wait.

Waiting for that golden opportunity.

"Good reflexes." The cloaked man's voice echoed in the chamber. "Fast. Light on your feet, like all good Hunters. But, is it enough for you to escape? To run where my bullets can't reach you?"

Uldren growled. He would not bother wasting with a reply. If he did, it would be with a bullet to the skull.

"Behind you!"

Uldren turned around in time to see a fist approaching. He dodged to the left and shot two rounds into the man's stomach. They barely did anything as the gun was knocked out of his hands and a fist rammed into his jaw by an uppercut. The blow stunned Uldren, long enough for the man to aim the gun point-blank at his chest and open fire.

Compared to the shot to the shoulder, this one hurt far worse.

The Awoken was knocked off his feet and hit the ground on his back. His breath became hitched. His lungs were burning.

"Sov? Sov?!" Pulled Pork shouted. "What's wrong?! Hey, hey! Stay with me! I'm healing you, okay? Just-just sit tight!"

The man approached Uldren, his steps slow and gaited as if he were taking his time. Toying with is prey. Uldren glared at him in defiance from underneath his helmet. He mustered strength and tried to stand, only to find his chest burning with pain.

Just what the hell kind of bullets was he firing?

"It hurts, doesn't it?" the man asked him. "Once, it was a beautiful rose. It used to be held by a man who's light burned brighter than anyone. A paragon of virtue… But all roses eventually wilt. There are no petals. No light. Just angry, twisted thorns."

"Do you…" Uldren gasped. "Do you ever stop talking?"

"Only when you're dead." came the reply.

A foot pinned him to the floor. Right on top of the wound. The cloaked man pushed down hard. Uldren screamed.

"Why you-!" Pulled Pork would have manifested to try and get the man off of his Guardian, but something stopped him. A low humming. Something was happening inside the room. Or rather, in the far back. "Wait. The shrine. It's…activating?! But how? Eris said it was destroyed!"

Glowing eyes peered down at Uldren. He aimed the gun down, the barrel starring down at his helmet, refected in its stained black surface.

"Any last words?"

Uldren stared at him. A burning sensation flowed through him. A smirk touched his lips as he focused that sensation into his hand.

"Just three."

Flames danced in his hand, forming into a familiar shape. The man's eyes widened as the Golden Gun was aimed straight at his face.

"Yours, not mine!"

The trigger was pulled. Two bullets were fired. The helmet shattered and Uldren drew his last breath. The man's head snapped back, and he fell to the ground. The shadows that clung to him lessened and faded, almost shedding away from his body.

Silence fell upon the room while Pulled Pork materialized into existence. "So much for trying not to die…" he muttered before his shell split open. A burst of ethereal light exploded from his core. Moments later, the corpse of Uldren Sov vanished and returned from motes of light, helmet brand new. "Nice one-liner, by the way. Very Shin Malphur."

Uldren smiled back at his Ghost. It dropped when he heard the man's corpse begin to chuckle.

"How nostalgic… When was the last time I heard those words?"

"What?!"

They stared, in horror, as the man rose to his feet. The shadows returned to him, wrapping around him like a wreath. The sound of bones snapping and cracking could be heard in their ears, disturbing sounds that would make Fallen and human alike shudder. The dark glow of the man's eyes had not faded.

Uldren stared at him. He did not notice that the sphere of the shrine had begun to glow. "What are you?" he asked, but dreaded to hear the answer.

"The first, and only, of my family." The cloaked man answered with a smile. "The sole forebear and last descendant of my name."

The humming grew louder. The glow of the shrine began to grow brighter.

"I am Dredgen Yor."

At its apex, the light exploded. The last thing Uldren saw were the man's eyes, burning like fire and that twisted smile that promised only misery and despair.

"And welcome to a world _without light_."

Within that moment, Uldren Sov vanished. But he did not die.

Rather, he was now lost. Lost to a world long since forgotten by the universe.

A world on the precipice of despair…

* * *

_If you learn nothing else, learn this._

_When a Hunter takes up the cloak of a dead comrade._

_It's a vow._

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**: Not bad reception.

Also, tried playing Destiny 2 since Shadowkeep went live today. I was put on a waiting list since the servers are at max capacity. Waited for an hour, then got told there was an error with the servers.

Not gonna lie. Feeling a bit salty.

* * *

**REVIEWS**:

ZexusAstral: Your wish has been granted.

BraveSeeker3: I felt that the chorus of "Fireborn" fits Uldren in this story, since this is more than just him having a redemption story. This is him coming into his own as a Guardian.


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER**: I do not own RWBY or Destiny. Both are properties of RoosterTeeth and Bungie respectively. I own none of the characters that appear in this series, only the original events that will transpire.

* * *

**THE FORSAKEN PRINCE**

* * *

_Folding was never an option._

* * *

_**Chapter 3**_

* * *

_Uldren stood in what looked like a throne room, standing amid an empty, yet comforting void with red banners dangling down from various edges. The slightest misstep, and one would be forever lost, yet somehow he was not worried nor concerned by the possibility. Nor was he concerned with the Fallen who stood behind the throne, garbed in tattered cloaks with weapons in hand, ready to combat any and all intruders who would dare set foot in this sanctuary._

_He didn't understand why he was there or why there were Fallen in the room. In fact, he discovered he had no control over his body as when he attempted to move or speak, such actions were denied from him. There were also foreign feelings enveloping him as well. Condescendence. Arrogance. Pride. Emotions that he believed were useless._

_The doors to the throne room opened. Two Awoken, garbed in thin armor and weapons in hand, stood on either side of a familiar face – one lacking the edge and experience he saw them wearing. In fact, there looked to be an air of naiveté surrounding them, and their eyes shone so differently that Uldren believed he was looking at a mere doppelganger instead of the fearsome Hero of the Red War. The scourge of the Legion, who bested Ghaul when the Guardians were brought to their lowest point and nearly succeeded where others had failed._

"_So, these are the trespassers demanding an audience?" Uldren asked, his lips moving against his will. Every word that spilled from his mouth tasted like ash and poison. He stared at the Guardian in contempt, a hand firmly resting at his hip where his knife lay in wait._

_The Guardian's Ghost, a tiny white ball, shifted its pieces nervously. "We didn't mean to trespass."_

_Uldren scoffed and waved a hand in dismissal. "The Queen herself judges who may or may not enter the realm. Me, I see no reason she should be available for whatever washes up at the reef. But here we are." He took a few steps down the throne, glowering at the Guardian._

_To their credit, they were not threatened in the least._

"_We came to ask for help." the Guardian said in earnest. Uldren could tell they spoke with honesty. The voice was the same as that of the Young Wolf, but there was a distinct lack of hostility and underlying anger. They were as calm as the ocean's waters. _

_The Fallen behind the throne clicked their mandibles, stepping out from the shadows. Their blue eyes glared down at the Guardian, weapons raised in warning as if telling them to choose their words carefully._

"_Fallen!" the Ghost cried in warning._

_Faster than the guards could react, the Guardian stole a pistol from their holster, ready to engage the sudden appearance of a threat, only for Uldren to just as quickly take out his knife and raise it against their throat._

_Their eyes met. And he could tell, with certainty, that this was indeed the very same Young Wolf that instilled so much fear in him._

_And this was their first meeting._

* * *

"…dian? Guardian! Hello, Guardian Sov! Eyes up! Wake up!"

Uldren stirred from his sleep, groaning as he pulled himself up from a cold, hard surface. His head was swimming and the back of his eyes throbbed in pain. "Urgh…"

"Whew. Thank the Traveler, you're alright!" Pulled Pork said with relief. "You were out for so long, I thought you might have died! Or, you know, gone into a coma. If that happened, I might have had to kill you and resurrect you, buuut I know how much you hate being killed and resurrected, so… Gosh, how long would I have had to wait for you to wake up?"

"Pork, please be quiet." Uldren begged his Ghost. His head was aching. "I think I have a migraine the size of a Gjallarhorn."

"Oh, sorry."

"What happened? Where are we?"

Looking around, Uldren saw that their surroundings had changed. They were no longer anywhere near the Shrine of Oryx, but instead in a place he didn't recognize. The walls, floor and ceiling were white steel, consoles with black screens and faded keyboards, all lined with thin layers of frost, were spread out before him. The air was frigid, and his helmet was foggy until he wiped it away with his hand. Wherever they are, it was without any sort of warmth whatsoever. He could also see what looked like black, root-like veins crawling all over the area, pulsating as if alive.

"I don't know." Pork confessed. "But judging by the structure, it appears to be some sort of space station. They were widely in use prior to the development of the Warminds pre-Golden Age, but they've become extremely rare following the Collapse."

Uldren grimaced. "And…" He kicked his foot up against the pulsating vein next to him.

"Ah, that's organic. It isn't Taken, but something else entirely. I've been trying to get the station back online so I could restore communications, but this thing seems to be sucking all the power. In fact, what little power is left is just barely keeping basic functions working, like keeping the station intact. Everything else is powered down."

He grimaced. "So, we can't contact anyone so long as whatever this is…is still alive?"

"Preeetty much."

Well, at least things were simple. If they could get rid of whatever the heck this thing was, the station could get power back, and Uldren would be free to contact the Tower. Hopefully, they'd have some idea as to what happened back at the Shrine, and maybe an idea as to who the hell "Dredgen Yor" was.

He shuddered as he recalled their meeting. The way the darkness seemed to slither back into him after death. How he nonchalantly took a bullet to the head as if it was nothing.

What was he? Was he really just a "Nightmare" as Eris Morn claimed he was?

Shaking the thought off for another time, Uldren took out Thin Line and followed the veins to their source. With Pork's help, they waltzed through many different corridors and winding paths, all the same as the others. The further they progressed into the station, the more heavily covered it was in this black snare.

As they walked, Uldren decided to question the Ghost. "Pork. Do we have anything on this…Dredgen Yor? If he's based off of the Guardians' worst nightmares, then he must be someone they know." Or, perhaps Dredgen Yor was a Guardian himself. His skills spoke for themselves, after all.

"Well, I can't access any information right now until we get communications back online, but what I can tell you is that Dredgen Yor was wearing Titan-based armor." Pork informed him. "I don't know if he was a Guardian, but I did feel the presence of light from him. He could have been one of those Fallen Guardians Eris Morn mentioned. Speaking of, I can't get a reading of him anywhere on this place, so I think we don't have to worry about a reunion."

Uldren breathed a sigh of relief. He was not keen on running into that man again until he had back-up, or he was certain he could defeat him by himself.

Eventually, they reached the source behind the "infestation." It was a bulbous growth of some sort, pulating and sac-shaped. Filled with red liquid, like some sort of pus. Ivory-white bone plating surrounded it like armor, curved fangs – its teeth perhaps – surrounding the orb like a defensive shield. Uldren saw that, in the grasp of its roots, there were corpses. They were skeletons by now – only bones left wearing white space suits, strangled and twisted and bent apart in ways the body was not meant to bend.

"Okay, that's disgusting." Pork said, filled with obvious disgust. "What _is_ this thing? There's…nothing coming from it. No ether, no signs of dark energy residue, nothing. It's like some of autonomous biological life-form, but it lacks organs. Even a brain. How is it even functional?"

Uldren raised his hand cannon. "Record all that you can. Once communications are re-established, forward it to the Vanguard and the Cryptarch."

"Roger dodger."

He aimed carefully for its "core" and pulled the trigger until the chamber was empty. The bullets broke through its wall of fangs, shattering them with ease, and struck without mercy. Red liquid splashed into the air and stained the walls. A high-pitched wail, reminiscent to the cries of an infant mixed with a woman screaming at the top of her lungs, pierced the air as the creature twitched and spasmed, trapped in its death throes before it suddenly ceased to operate. It was still, then it began to break apart. Pieces of its body broke off and began to dissipate into black particles. Its remains lingered in the air before evaporating entirely.

"Ow… My poor ears." Pork whined. "Do Ghosts even have ears?"

Uldren shrugged and holstered his gun. The Ghost recorded the unique phenomenon before them. It was very similar to how the Hive broke apart into flames and died without leaving a trace behind upon their death, but at least with this, they could take samples.

The Awoken Guardian captured some samples, trapping them in a small viable locked in stasis via the power of Void before pocketing it away. After several minutes following the death of the creature, the station hummed and lit up like a Christmas tree.

Uldren smiled. "And let there be light."

"Okay, let's see here…" Pork floated over to a nearby console. His body broke into pieces, initating a scan to determine whether or not the station could still be used before it floated inside the system itself for a more in-depth look. The monitor flickered and lit up, showing Uldren several strands of codes and data before flashing into some kind of screen with words and terms he didn't understand. "System functions all normal, comm systems operational, observation systems operational… Okay, I think we can use this. But, wow, this is incredible. I didn't think we'd find a piece of pre-Golden Age technology around here. Still, is it just me, or are some of its systems slightly more advanced than what pre-Golden Age tech should be? …nah. I'm overthinking it!"

Pork emerged from the screen, bouncing in the air with joy. "Communications are online. I'm running some diagnostics to see if we can use the station, and I've inputted our coordinates to our ship. We should be back home in, oh, a few hours. We are REALLY far away!"

"How far?"

"Couple thousand light years." Uldren stared at his Ghost. "I did say really far away!"

He shook his head. "If you say so. Pork, open up a channel to Commander Zavala."

"On it!"

Pork opened up a channel while Uldren stared at the screen in front of him. He was trying to make sense of what he was reading, trying to understand the technobabble and the terms he was seeing before the voice of the Titan Vanguard leader entered his mind.

[Guardian Sov.] Zavala's voice was tight. Compared to Ikora, though, who often spoke with a hint of malice, his fellow Awoken at least tried to remain civil and kept any and all pretense of hostility in his thoughts. [We heard you had disappeared. You vanished for at least six hours.]

"Apologies, Commander." Uldren apologized sincerely. "Eris Morn requested my assistance in investigating an energy reading on the Moon at the Shrine of Oryx. I encountered one of those Phantasms she spoke of and the Shrine activated somehow. I was told a Guardian had put it out of commission a long time ago, however."

[It was. Where exactly are you?]

"On a Space Station. According to my Ghost, it's pre-Golden Age technology, albeit several light-years away from the Solar System."

[What? All the way out there?! Is that possible?]

"There's more. I'm having Pork send you data on something we found here on the ship. It was responsible for killing the crew."

A few seconds passed as Pork transmitted the data they recorded on the strange creature to Zavala. Shortly after the Titan received it, his voice returned, this time with confusion and anxiety. [What in the world…? Hawthorne, get me Ikora, if you'd please.]

Ikora Ray, being a Warlock, was an expert in many things. While Eris Morn's expertise lie with the Hive, Ikora specialized in dark sorceries and other items of interest, particularly in some cases involving the Vex. Following the Red War, she and the Praxis Order had also begun to expand their horizons, investigating the Taken alongside Eris.

If information was power, no one was better suited to wield it than a Warlock. And when it came to knowledge, Ikora was a master.

It made sense for Zavala to request Ikora's assistance in investigating this matter. To both men's surprise, however…

[…I haven't the faintest idea what this is.] Ikora confessed. [This is…fascinating. A lifeform that somehow lacks any sort of organs yet remains cognitively functional. It isn't thriving on any form of magical energy, and it doesn't emit any sort of residual energy, either… You said it was feeding off of the electricity produced by the station?]

"Yeah. It was freaky." Pork shuddered. "It's tentacle-thingies were everywhere. But how'd it get on the station?"

[That is a question for another time.] Zavala cut in. [Sov, what exactly happened at the Shrine of Oryx?]

"We encountered a Nightmare. Possibly a Fallen Guardian. It called himself Dredgen Yor."

Silence reigned over the comms.

"…um, Commander Zavala?" Pork called. "Are you still on the phone?"

[…impossible.] Zavala whispered with dread. [That can't be possible.]

[Sov, are you _certain_ that what you encountered was Dredgen Yor?] Ikora demanded. [You're certain?]

"It referred to himself as such. It was also wearing Titan armor and could use a hand cannon proficiently."

Ikora's voice rose. [It was carrying a gun? What did it look like? Did you see it?!]

"Yeah. Real weird looking! It had Hive bones crafted into the barrel"

[…by the Traveler.]

Uldren frowned. "Who is he?"

[Dredgen Yor was…] Ikora let out a heavy breath. […is one of our greatest failures. He was a Guardian. A Titan that once shined as a beacon of hope. In the past, he was once known as Rezyl Azzir, and was one of the very first Guardians to exist. When the Guardians of old, known as the Risen, formed factions beneath the Traveler and engaged in petty squabbles, he and others ended that conflict and became the founding principles for future generations.]

[But, that all changed when Azzir had gone by himself to infiltrate a Hive stronghold.] Zavala hissed. [He thankfully survived the ordeal, a miracle in of itself, but he didn't come out intact. For whatever reason, perhaps as a trophy or reminder of what happened, he grafted the bones of a Hive Knight he had killed to his gun. After that, the Vanguard noticed that he had undergone small, but noticeable changes. Then, one day, Azzir disappeared…]

[A few days later, we began receiving reports that a Titan calling himself Dredgen Yor had begun slaughtering villages en masse outside the Last City. There were even claims that he had killed other Guardians.]

Uldren's face paled. "Good lord…"

[Eris had told me that something on the Moon had stirred. Something that was making our worst fears come to life. I…never would have imagined that among them would be some of our failures.]

"What happened to Dredgen Yor?" Pork asked. "He was killed, right?"

[He was.] Zavala confirmed. [He was gunned down by a Hunter. Shin Malphur. Sov, return to the Tower at once and prepare for a debriefing. I want to hear _everything_ that happened down there at the Shrine of Oryx. Understood?]

"Yes, sir-"

[Hello?! Hello?! C-can anyone hear this?! Is anyone listening?!]

A foreign voice had interceded into the communications. It was a man screaming frantically. In the background, the sound of screams, gunfire and howls could be heard, creating a rather vivid picture. While Zavala and Ikora expressed confusion by what was happening, Uldren looked at Pork.

The Ghost's plates shifted sheepishly. "Okay, so I miiight be also tracking transmissions from the planet nearby."

"You mean this station is right next to a _planet_ and you didn't tell me?" Uldren snapped.

"What? This was more important!"

[Someone-anyone! If anybody's listening to this, send help! Please! The settlement's being overrun with Grimm, a-and the walls are barely hanging on! If any of you are a Huntsman, Huntress or anything-! Help us, please! There-there's children here, for Brothers' sake!]

Uldren stilled. Pork stared at him, seeing a glint rush through his eyes. His hands tightened into fists. [Sov, return to the Tower. We'll send a Guardian to-]

"No."

His voice was firm, yellow eyes as cold as steel. Pork giggled as he shut off communications. "Ship's coming around now. I've already locked in the coordinates. Hunting time?"

"Hunting time."

* * *

Hawthorne wasn't sure what was more rare. The gobsmacked looks of disbelief on the faces of the two most respected and revered Guardians within the Vanguard, save for the Young Wolf, or the fact that someone had just hanged up on them.

"…well. I can't say I've ever heard a Guardian hanging up in the middle of a conversation." Ikora grimaced. "Then again, Sov is known for several firsts. Should we bring him back?"

"Don't bother." Zavala dismissed. "Despite the Guardians'…grievances with him, Sov does take his job seriously. He's helped stop Vex and Hive incursions on Io and Mars more times than I would have liked to count. In the meantime, I believe we should study what he sent us. Whatever this thing is, it's an extraterrestrial organism we've never encountered before. The fact that it killed humans could imply its hostile."

"Or it was protecting its territory."

Hawthorne raised a skeptical eyebrow at Ikora's defensive reply. "On a space station manned by humans?"

Ikora gave a shrug. "You never know."

"Where exactly was this space station, anyhow? I thought the ones in the Solar System all got canned, saved for the big pieces of barely functioning scrap surrounding Earth."

"According to our data, the Space Station is located near…" Zavala looked at the coordinates, eyes wide. "…Alpha Centauri?"

"Alpha Centauri?" Ikora's eyes widened. "But, that's _outside_ the Solar System. Right around the corner, perhaps, but still far away. There is no record of any manned space station ever being sent that far out, not even the one sent to Saturn! How is that possible?!"

Hawthorne frowned. "Vex, maybe?"

"Perhaps…" Zavala nodded. "What's the name of the Space Station? We can search the records and go from there."

"It's Vytal. Vytal One."

* * *

_Stalk thy prey and let loose thy talons upon the Darkness._

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**: Another chapter, another day in the life of Guardian Uldran Sov.

So, quick admission. I'm still not too well-versed in the lore of Destiny and often need to watch the lore videos created by Destiny veteran and lore expert My Name is Byf. If anyone can help me out with the lore of Destiny, that would be great.

On a more personal note, I'm FINALLY done with the PvP portion of the Thorn Exotic sidequest. Took me six hours using the IKELOS handgun. Thank you Datto for posting that guide, you are the man. Of course, now I just need some help to complete the Chasm of Screams Strike, and I'm golden.

In regards to Uldren's choice of weaponry, they were chosen for specific reasons. For the Gentleman Vagabond, it was to reflect Uldren's status. He's the "black sheep" of the Guardians, and he doesn't prefer being in large company for too long. And compared to his pre-resurrection self, he's not in the least-bit dangerous.

Thin Line was chosen because of its significance. The description for the item reads "Sometimes you forget which side you're on." At least, I'm fairly certain that's what it reads. I'd have to double check. And it also reflects where Uldren is right now. He was previously used as a pawn by Riven, a servant of Darkness so to speak, and now he is a Guardian – a warrior chosen by the Traveler.

All the more ironic, considering his last words before becoming a Guardian, no?

* * *

**REVIEWS**:

Guest #1: No spoilers, please. I'm still leveling up my character and I don't want to be spoiled for the Shadowkeep campaign.

Hamhjolf Stormcrown: I'm glad I've caught your interest. I hope you will stick around.

Guest #2: No. The Traveler is not a creation of the God of Light. Furthermore, the Brother Gods and the Traveler are not related in any way, shape or form.

CheesusChrist15: Your wish has been granted.

iKoma: I'm glad you loved it. Here, have another!


	4. Chapter 4 End Prologue

**DISCLAIMER**: I do not own Destiny or RWBY. Both are properties of Bungie and RoosterTeeth respectively.

* * *

**THE FORSAKEN PRINCE**

* * *

_Everyone loves a scoundrel._

* * *

_**Chapter 4 / End Prologue**_

* * *

Uldren's ship dropped him off at the outskirts of the outpost where the call for help emanated. The settlement was not very big or well defended, its walls made out of stone rather than steel. He stared at it for a moment, watching as the people flailing about in fear retreated behind the walls and sought refuge in their homes, no doubt barricading their doors or preparing for a hasty retreat. Anyone with a weapon in hand was outside the walls, fighting against beasts he had no knowledge of.

At a glance, they resembled wolves. Their fur was pitch-back, white spikes protruding out from their bodies and masks on their faces. Their eyes were as red as blood. There was bloodlust in those eyes, the desire to maim and kill.

It takes only a minute of watching them get their claws on one of the men protecting his home that Uldren whipped out the sniper rifle from his back. Peering down the scope, he saw his first target make it past the wall and lunge at the nearest group of people.

_Bang_.

A single shot pierces its skull. Its body hits the ground before it can reach the fleeing group. The sound of gunfire attracted their attention, some turning their heads in his direction. He aims down the scope of the Vagabond and takes another shot, this time killing the black wolf at the far back of the group.

A howl alerts the pack of his presence. The rifle returns to his back and releases the hand cannon from its holster. In the other hand is his knife, cackling with arc.

"I count at least sixteen hostiles in the area," Pulled Pork informs him. "More on the way."

Uldren hummed in response, answering with gunfire instead with words.

_Bang. Bang. Bang._

Three rounds exit the chamber. The first kills the closest wolf charging towards him. The other two rounds hit another in the shoulder and in the torso. It did not stop charging towards him. Two managed to close the distance and lung at him. One takes a swing at him. He ducks beneath it, grip firm on his knife before ramming it into its skull. Whether the electricity flowing through the blade or the blade itself killed it, he didn't know. Nor did he care.

_Bang. Bang._

Two rounds were fired from the cannon, killing the wolf creeping up next to him. Uldren grunted and kicked the dead wolf off his knife and threw it. It soared through the air and lodged itself in the head of another approaching wolf.

"Three dead," Uldren muttered to himself.

Thirteen more to kill.

He reloaded his cannon and watched the wolves approach him in fury. He doesn't hesitate and pulled the trigger again.

_Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang._

Six shots, almost a full cartridge. Two missed, but four hit the group of wolves. Only one died via a bullet hole in the heart. The remaining three shots hit two wolves. Two shots hit one wolf in the chest, one close to the neck, and the other wolf was struck in the shoulder. As though impervious to pain, they still charged at him with their claws ready and their fangs bared.

One of the wolves managed to reach him, but was kicked in the face and pinned down to the ground. A pull of the trigger, and the wolf was dead. He brandished a new knife and rammed it as deep as he could into the throat of another approaching wolf, watching as black-and-red matter began to seep out from the wound. The wolf gurgled and snarled, fruitlessly clawing at him before it died from blood loss. He leaned over the corpse's shoulder and fired a bullet straight into the open mouth of another wolf, killing it instantly.

The fourth wolf snuck around him and attempted to tear its claws into his exposed backside. By the time Pulled Pork yelled, "Behind you!" Uldren was already in action. The knife tore further through the throat of the dead wolf before it exited the body and met the claws head on.

Steel grinded against bone for only a moment. Uldren rammed his knee into the wolf's stomach, knocking the wind out of it and slitting its throat as it recovered.

Four dead, nine left.

Only two wolves approached him this time. The rest were too far away, either hanging in the back or focusing their assault on the settlement.

Uldren clicked his tongue as he reloaded his cannon for a second time. "Reinforcements are inbound!" Pulled Pork warned him. "Thirty, forty… Holy crap that's a lot. Um, Uldren? You have a plan, right?"

"…switch guns," Uldren said after a moment. He held up his hand cannon. "Load up Outlast."

Pulled Pork's optic flared as the hand cannon dissipated into motes of light. Moments later, the weight in Uldren's hand became heavier. A steel frame wrapped around the thin barrel of the rifle in his hands, shorter than the one slung on his back and wreathed in purple straps.

The image of a smiling man crosses Uldren's mind, recalling what the man told him as he handed him this gun.

_No such word as extinction._

The Awoken peered down the rifle's scope as he took aim and pulled the trigger.

_Tat-tat-tat-tat. Tat-tat-tat-tat._

Eight rounds fired in bursts of two. The wolves went down easily. There's barely a dent in his ammo capacity.

Two dead, seven left. And many more to come.

Uldren inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, taking a moment before opening them again. His legs carry him forward, gun held firmly in hand and bearing down on the black beasts like a madman possessed. They could tear away at his flesh and bite off his limbs or even tear out his throat. They could do all they wanted to him. He probably deserved it and then some.

But he would not allow them to touch a single one of those people.

He was no Guardian, but he would damn well act like one.

* * *

The drifter smiled as he flicked a coin into the air, watching it spin before catching it as it came back down. He stared at the side it landed on before flipping it again. He would flip it again and again as many times he wanted before he got the side he wanted. Perseverance, or maybe just flat-out stubborn. Either or, really.

"I hear Uldren's gone missing," the Guardian people never shut up about said to him. For once, they're not here to play a round of Gambit. It's one of the few times they come around for small talk.

He chuckled. "Yeah, and word is, he's someplace outside Sol. Got mixed up in some business with that Hive friend of yours."

He knew surprisingly little about Eris Morn, other than the fact that she was a piece of work. A survivor like him, but a tad bit too deranged for his taste. Something about her felt off, something he couldn't quite explain. The few times they ever met, be it out in the wilds or when she took the time to visit the Tower, he preferred to steer clear of her.

"What's the matter, kid?" he asked. "Don't tell me you're getting soft."

A low growl escapes the Young Wolf's throat. Ever so slightly, their hand reaches for their signature masterpiece. Even after all this time, the drifter can't help but admire the beauty of it. The way it shifted back and forth between being a thing of pure evil and being a gun humming with light.

He was no gunsmith, but he took pride in crafting the work of art that is the Malfeasance.

The drifter raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Whoa, hey now, calm down. No need to get all feisty on me. Still, why are you asking? I thought you hated Mara's brother."

To say that the Young Wolf despised Uldren Sov was like saying Fallen were ugly bastards. Even though the former prince was one of them now, chosen by the Traveler for whatever reason, you would be hard pressed to find anyone who considered Uldren Sov a friend. The Vanguard tolerated him, but couldn't stand him. The other Guardians, while not actively antagonistic, took their frustrations out on him whenever he participated in the Crucible or Gambit if given the chance.

The Young Wolf?

The drifter shuddered, remembering what happened when Uldren and the Young Wolf met during a match in Gambit Prime. Even the Taken were floored by the sheer brutality, which was saying something seeing as how they were pure violence and destruction.

Instead of his favorite pal, their Ghost answers his question. "My Guardian's personal feelings aside, Uldren is one of us. And if one of us goes missing for any reason…"

"Fair point," the drifter shrugged. He flipped his coin for the sixth time and grinned when he finally got the result he wanted. "Well, I'm sure the Vanguard's looking for him. Besides, Sov's a big boy. He can handle himself. Anybody who walks away after having a Golden Gunshot up their asshole is a tough bastard in my book."

That, and while he would never admit it aloud, especially not around the Young Wolf anytime soon, he actually liked Uldren. Not the person he used to be, the Awoken prince and brother to the Queen was a right asshole who deserved everything he had coming, but the man he was now.

Lost, confused, searching for something to make out of his wretched new life thrust upon him and following the words of a tiny little ball and shooting anything that tried to kill him to survive.

No different than how he was when he was Risen.

The drifter pocketed his coin and peeled away from the railing. "Well, enough talk about our little pariah. What can ol' Drifter do for you today, kid?"

* * *

_Can you feel this fire? _

_Now the Light is burning_

_And with my future brighter_

_I'll show them I am worthy_

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**: Aaaaaand we're back.

Not going to lie, I missed writing this. Short chapter, I know, but I can promise longer chapters after this one.

Quick question for you all: Do you guys want this story to be written in Grimoire Card format or keep going as is?

* * *

**REVIEWS**:

Dracus6: (sigh) How many times must I tell you to make requests via PM? Also, please stop. I am not accepting requests or fanfic ideas at this time.

dovah117: This is the unofficial Uldren Sov Redemption Fic, or something along those lines. And the creature is a Grimm, which was sucking all the electricity in the space station.

Guest (rebiele): The gender and class of the Young Wolf is purposely kept ambiguous until I decide whether or not they will have an identity or the readers decide for themselves who and what the Young Wolf is.

Bartholomeow: This is set during the middle of Volume 4, a little before Ruby and co. encounter Tyrian.


	5. A Little Bit of Hope 1

**THE FORSAKEN PRINCE**

* * *

_If you think this world ends well, you are mistaken._

* * *

_**A Little Bit of Hope 1**_

The sound of bells ringing stirred Uldren awake. He blinked for a moment, finding himself amid both familiar and unfamiliar scenery. A lush forest surrounded him; trees stood proudly with their leaves blanketing the sky. Bits of sunlight peaked through the gaps; one beam reflected off his helmet.

It took him a moment to remember where he was and why he was here. A few days had passed since the attack on the settlement that sent out the distress signal. He had done his part and defended it, joining the guards and repelling the monstrous creatures that attacked it. The defense took longer than he expected as the creatures came at the village in droves, almost as if they were drawn to it for some inexplicable reason.

The defense was ultimately successful, though not without some issues. Firstly, Uldren found himself low on ammunition. He conserved it as best he could, relying on his knives and grenades as best he could so as to not waste as many bullets as he possibly can. While some weapons ran on pure energy, attuned to a specific element, guns that fired physical ammunition such as side-arms, hand cannons and rifles were another matter entirely.

He had wasted a third of his rifle ammunition, and had at least six magazines left for his hand cannon. His sniper rifle only had twelve shots left in it. The Gjallarhorn remained unused in his arsenal unless truly needed. Heavy weapons were meant to be used only in the most dire of situations.

After repelling the creatures, Uldren mingled with the villagers. They confused him for a "Huntsman," most likely an official of some kind or a defender. The meeting with the villagers had proven to be more informative than he soon realized as he spoke with the village chief.

Pulled Pork was able to gather some information they needed from the local network on this planet, though it was admittedly little than he would have liked. For some reason, the network was not working as it should. The reason being that a communication tower, the CCT, was destroyed some odd months back. All the towers were linked together, so when one went down, the whole system did. There were some countermeasures put into place in the event this happened; relay stations were devised to stretch a single communication tower's reach as it could within its vicinity. The problem, however, was that the further the relays were stretched out, the less information could be transmitted between relay points.

The whole network was shared, each continent housing its own communication tower with its own set of information. Essentially, four pieces of a very large puzzle.

Uldren had no idea who designed such a system in the first place, but he would have loved to introduce them to Zavala. His fellow Awoken would have beaten common sense into their skulls and then some.

The villagers repaid his efforts with what little currency they could offer him. Plastic cards called "lien," though he didn't know the exact value of those cards. He also asked for information regarding his surroundings, claiming he had gotten lost and was searching for his partner. They bought the story and had given him a map, pointing him in the direction of the nearest city.

Mistral, the capital city of the continent of Anima, and center of the self-same kingdom, was a twelve-day trek by foot and a seven-day journey on a vehicle. And that was assuming you were lucky. The monsters that assaulted the village, the Creatures of Grimm that had been hounding humanity since they came to exist, were everywhere and came in all shapes and sizes. And since the destruction of the communication tower in a kingdom called Vale, they had been growing in number due to the spike of negativity.

The Grimm were attracted to negative emotions like bees to honey. To them, it was insatiable, and if a whole settlement was affected, it was the same as offering them an all-you-can-eat buffet. And being so far away from any nearby settlements or even the capital, they had no way of asking for help that would arrive at a feasible time.

As much as Uldren wanted to say, he was uncomfortable. These people were foreign to him. They were human, yes, but there were some among their number that gave him pause.

To the best of his knowledge, the Tower was not host to humans, Awoken or Exos of any kind that had animal features.

Pulled Pork's scavenging for information revealed them as "Faunus" – a form of sub or demi-human organic individual with DNA structure identical to humans, save for some odd genomes and traits here and there. They had been subject to racism and abuse, and in the past, they were once treated as being worse than humans.

There was a lot more than that, of course, but Uldren skimmed over those parts until he was in a more comfortable and defended location before going over that information again in earnest.

Three days had gone by since he arrived on this planet, aptly named "Remnant" for its lost records of history dating back thousands of years ago. He avoided as much human contact as possible and used as little ammunition as he could, relying on his abilities, his knives and his grenades. The only things that drew power from his light and not from ammo.

"Are we there yet?"

Uldren sighed. "Not even close, Pork."

His Ghost was kept out of sight, hidden from any prying eyes. The last thing he needed was for someone to ask questions. These people didn't seem to know what Guardians were, and it was probably better that way. He didn't need any trouble, especially if they didn't know of Awoken or Exo.

That brought up a curious thought, one that lingered on Uldren's mind. Why hadn't the Vanguard or the Last City, or any Guardian really, discovered this place? How far away was it?

The Awoken was not sure, but learning about it was not his priority. As per protocol, if a planet that was previously unregistered in their start chart was discovered, any and all Guardians present were to deploy a beacon that would transmit data of their present location to the Tower, as well as a makeshift transmat zone.

Uldren thought it would be best to deploy the beacon in a place far away from civilization, but before he could think about doing that, he first needed to learn more about Mistral. And find a solution to his limited ammo problem.

On the plus side, however, the quiet serenity of the forest gave him an odd sense of calm. The walk was soothing, almost enough to make him relax.

It brought memories of his time on Earth, and the first time an ally of the Guardians who welcomed amicably, if not warily.

* * *

"Uldren Sov, you say? Hm, odd name, but who am I to judge?" Devrim's smile is strained, but his eyes do not glow in hostility. He stared at him as though he was trying to solve a puzzle whose pieces didn't match. "First time here in the European Dead Zone?"

"Yep!" Pulled Pork danced in the air. "What can you tell us?"

"Well, aside from being the home of who knows how many Fallen, the Cabal have dug themselves deep here. Still trying to keep a hold on Firebase Hades, however much good that does them anyway." Devrim peeked out the window from his spot inside the tower. The lever-action rifle in his hands was primed. He didn't even look down his scope as he pulled the trigger. Uldren watched as a stray Fallen scavenger's head now sported a hole in its head and slumped to the ground, ether pouring out from its skull like air from a balloon. "Occasionally, the Cabal will try and pick a fight with the Fallen around here, but they're almost always preoccupied with trying to kill each other or any Guardian nearby rather than pick this building apart."

Uldren hummed. "Sounds troublesome."

"It does quite a bit annoying, especially when they blow off pieces of this chapel," the sniper replied with a shrug. "It's a special place for me, you know. It's where I first met my husband, and eventually the place where we married."

Pulled Pork's optic glowed with interest. "You have a _husband_? I thought men could only have wives?"

"It depends on a person's preferences, really. Some men discover they're attracted to other men, women discover they like only women, and some like both men _and_ women. I didn't realize I was interested in other men until the day I met Marc." Devrim took another shot. Another Fallen goes down, this time clutching at its throat. He cracked a smile as he pulled away from the window. "If you ever happen to have the time, I'd love to introduce the two of you. He has a curious fascination with Awoken. Always said he wanted to visit the Reef."

_Something_ echoes in Uldren's chest. A beat of unease and guilt he can't quite place.

"But, enough of that. Before you go out and start shooting things, might I invite you to a spot of tea?"

Uldren paused. A small smile formed beneath his helmet. "…I would appreciate that."

* * *

"I hope we get to meet Devrim's husband some day," Pulled Pork said. "He sounds really nice." The Ghost was about to continue speaking, but he suddenly stopped. Uldren did as well, his hand sliding towards the holster of his knife and gun. "Five pings on your tracker. Two moving very fast and coming towards you. Three more are coming up behind it."

"ETA?"

"Twelve seconds."

Thin Line was pulled from its holster while the knife was held close to his chest. He kept his eyes peeled, waiting for the enemy to come at him. Something inside the forest snapped and roared violently. The sounds drew closer.

"Here they come!" Pulled Pork yelled.

Uldren readied his weapons.

"Yee-haw!"

He stared.

A giant black bear, an Ursa Major, suddenly emerged from the forest depths, rearing on its hind legs and roaring out as if it was about to attack before it unceremoniously fell to the ground with an earth-quaking thud. Atop its back, as though she had been riding it, was a girl with an ear-to-ear grin. Even from where he stood, Uldren could faintly smell the scent of ozone from her.

The girl peered down at the Ursa. Its body was breaking down into small black wisps and evaporating into the air. "Aw, again? Why is the Ursa express so fragile?"

"…Uldren?" Pulled Pork said quietly. "Did she just come in riding atop a Grimm?"

"…yes. Yes she did."

"Nora! How many times have I told you? You can't just hitch a ride on an Ursa and…" Three people stumbled into view; all teenagers with weapons on their person. At the head was a girl with the most peculiar set of eyes he had ever seen and with a vibrant red cloak reminiscent to that of a Hunter's mantle.

The group of four stared at him. He stared back, not quite sure what to make of what had just transpired. He lowered his guns and gave the group an awkward wave.

The silver-eyed girl waved back just as awkwardly. "Um, hi?"

* * *

[A New Light – Eyes Up]

A flash of light.

A sudden burst of energy that ran through his whole body.

What had once been a feeling of sinking into the deepest depths of a cold, dark ocean was replaced by the feeling of basking in the sunlight.

His eyes snapped open, lungs burning and every cell in his body charged with activity. He gasped as he found himself being flung upwards, chest rising and falling and staring at what was in front of him, ignoring the fine white sheet that was covering his body or the ring that dangled around his neck.

A beautiful landscape stretched out before him; rocky hills and lush Greenland with a thin, pale blue mist at the bottom of what he thought was a ravine. The air seemed to sing and hum while a brilliant twilight sky, forever eternal, hanged above.

"Guardian? Eyes up, Guardian."

He looked up and stared the peculiar flying thing that was staring at him; a white orb with a blue optic, encased in purple-pink metal of a familiar and intricate design.

"Who…" He stops himself short and touches his throat. His voice sounded so foreign to him. "Who are you?"

"I'm a Ghost!" the ball replies happily. "Today, I'm your Ghost. Name's Pulled Pork, but you can just call me P. Nice to meet you, uh…" The ball faltered. "Shoot, I don't know your name."

He stared at the ball for a moment, then at himself. He stared at his hands. Hands he didn't know who they belonged to.

Despite having just woken up from what felt like a long slumber, he had hoped the ball knew his name.

Because he did not.

He could not remember his name. Only the sound that echoed in his ears.

A loud, cracking **bang**.

* * *

_There must be meaning in our roar_

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**: Hey everyone, sorry it took me so long. The move was actually fairly short; it was my computer wigging out on me that was the problem. I don't know what caused it to freak out, but it doesn't seem like I lost anything really of value. On the plus side, my new roomie is a computer god, so the issue was fixed.

Also decided to include Grimoire card-style ending sequences. These will probably be at least 1k long.

And in other news, _it's a double tap_. Two chapters for the price of one!

I also have a special announcement: I now have an actual gaming PC and I have downloaded Star Wars: The Old Republic. Which also leads to me getting a new story, which will replace one of my retired entries. It's a crossover, and as for what it is, I have three words.

_In a galaxy far, fary away…  
Rap. Tap. Tap._


	6. A Little Bit of Hope 2

**THE FORSAKEN PRINCE**

* * *

_Every hit blazes the path to our reclamation_

* * *

_**A Little Bit of Hope 2**_

He had noticed it before and wondered if there was some kind of story behind it, but Uldren couldn't help but think of how beautiful the moon was even in its broken state. It sat there, high in the sky, touched and shattered by some sort of force. He didn't know if there was anything in the world that could have caused it, but he wondered if anything had taken up residence there. Had the people of this planet even set foot on it? Was it unexplored?

"Aren't you going to take off your helmet?"

Uldren paused in his musings and stared at the silver-eyed girl. Ruby Rose, a budding girl at the age of 16, had offered him a place among them for a short time after he explained he was traveling to Mistral. The group was traveling there as well with the intent of defending Haven Academy, an institution responsible for training future generations of Huntsmen, having apparently been present when Beacon Academy and the Cross-Continental Tower fell.

Upon hearing of how he was traveling by himself, and apparently making an assumption that he was a veteran Huntsman or something of the like, she offered him a place among their group.

Currently, the five of them were sitting around a campfire. The embers crackled and snarled, the wood in its fiery maw slowly burning into sooth and ashes. Over the flame was a spit and slabs of meat.

Uldren turned his head away. "I don't see a reason why I should. You never know when you might get a hole drilled into your head."

A lesson he learned on more than a few times, courtesy of Fallen Vandals and Vex Minotaurs.

Annoying bastards.

"You're too paranoid! Take a load off!" Nora Valkyrie smiled widely at him, hand holding a skewer and pointing it. "We're totally safe here."

"You do know bandits roam Mistral like they own the place, don't you?" Uldren asked dryly.

The blonde-haired boy next to him grimaced. "We know. We saw a village not too far back. It was attacked recently. First by bandits, then by the Grimm."

"Attracted to the negativity brewing because of the bandits?" Uldren asked.

Lie Ren nodded. "That's what we believe. We found a Huntsman there, but his wounds were…" He turned his head away, lips curling downward into a frown.

Uldren could take a guess as to why that was and said nothing. Suddenly he found himself wondering whether or not the settlement he defended a few days ago was still safe. It had little to offer so chances of bandits attacking and ransacking the place were low unless somebody was incredibly desperate. He could only hope nothing would happen to it and they could get help. Worse was that there were most likely other settlements like it out here on this planet; vulnerable, weak, undefended.

He was just one person. He had powerful guns and abilities, but how would he be in two places at once? How could he just be there to protect something when the monsters showed up?

It only strengthened his belief to set up a beacon—as many as he needed to. The Vanguard had to know of this place.

The campfire snapped and crackled again. The meat was now cooked and the children wasted no time in digging their skewers into the darkened pieces of meat.

"Are you not going to eat?" Ruby asked.

Uldren smiled wryly beneath his helmet, wondering how they would react if he did take it off and showed them his face. If there were no Awoken here, then chances were this was them making alien contact or something.

Well, at least first contact was pleasant for them since he was their first alien, even if Awoken did use to be human.

"I'm not hungry," Uldren told her.

Ruby pouted and gave him an odd glare but stopped after a minute, choosing instead to focus on the food in front of her.

* * *

The group of children eventually fell asleep, safely tucked away in their sleeping bags. Their weapons were close by, but who was to say a bandit wouldn't discover them and attempt to sneak up on them, kill them and take their belongings?

Atop his perch in the trees, cloak blowing in the cool evening wind, Uldren stared at their vulnerable forms. His tracker saw no movement or any sign of enemy movement. There wasn't even a snarl or howl in the wind or hint of Grimm in the area.

"They're good kids, don't you think?" Pulled Pork appeared in a flash of light, dancing over his shoulder. "Two budding boys and girls, on a mission to defend one of the great cities of humanity. They're practically Guardians already. Actually… It's weird, but I think they're attuned to the light."

Uldren stared at Pulled Pork in surprise. "Really?"

"Yeah, but it's weird. Their light isn't like Guardians. It's hard to describe, but it feels more…primal I guess? I'm not really sure how to describe it."

"…what do you suppose would happen if one of them were to become a Guardian? Would their light change?"

"Maybe? I have no idea. We don't even know if any Ghosts found their way here yet. We are outside the Sol System." Pulled Pork's optic dimmed. "Regarding that bit of information, we need to talk about the beacons. Even if we lay one down, it probably won't reach the Tower. We're in a whole new system, nevermind how far away we are from Earth. The beacons have a very long rang, but they aren't _that_ long."

"What do you propose we do, then?"

"Remember that space station we woke up in? We were able to establish communications with the Vanguard inside, so I think I might be able to use that to boost our signal. It's a long shot, but it might be worth it. What do you say, Sov? Want to try?"

Uldren shrugged. "We don't really have very many options, P. The sooner we can establish proper communications with the Vanguard, the better. This planet needs all the help it can get."

After having said that, the Hunter gave a small pause and frowned. While it was true that the Guardians assistance on Remnant would prove invaluable, both in regards to their technology and in their skills and ability, there was no guarantee that the officials in power that ruled over the kingdoms—the Councils—would approve of their being here. They would be seen as strangers wielding incredible powers, far too potent and bizarre to be 'semblances,' and they came from another world. Another planet. Would they really accept the aid of people they knew nothing about? Of individuals who could so easily bring them down if they wanted to? Of _aliens_?

It was a troublesome thought, one that warranted further discussion with the Vanguard.

"Do you know where we can set the beacon?"

"We can set it up right here, actually," Pork told him. "Better hide it after you've set it up, though."

Uldren nodded and went to work.

He never noticed the black crow staring at him from far away, its red eyes tracking his movements.

* * *

After the beacon was set into the ground and hidden away in foliage, Uldren had left Remnant behind him in favor of the space station in the planet's orbit. He hadn't noticed it when he left to defend the settlement, but now that he had a chance, he saw that the station was utterly _ancient_. It was definitely pre-Golden Age, its exterior dented and bent. The lower chunk of the station was torn apart, as if something had torn its way inside.

The creature he discovered inside the station upon awakening came to mind. Had it been some kind of Grimm? Or was it something else?

The ship drew close to the station, practically touching it. Uldren was transmated inside and was greeted with the frigid hold of space. He returned to the console he used to speak with Commander Zavala, finding it untouched.

Pulled Pork floated over to the console and went to work. "This'll probably take a few minutes. Why don't you give the Vanguard a call?" Pork paused. "…you don't think they might be angry you hanged up on them, do you?"

"Me being here is enough to make them angry," Uldren snorted. It still frustrated him, not knowing what it was that earned their ire. Pushing that thought aside for now, he opened up his communications channels.

Before Uldren could utter a word, a familiar voice spoke. [Do you still breathe among the living, Uldren Sov?]

"Eris," Uldren greeted. "Long time no see."

[Indeed. I had feared the worst after your encounter.] Eris spoke with fear in her voice. [Have you encountered that nightmare of Dredgen Yor again?]

"No. I've found no sign of him, and in all honesty, a reunion is not high on my list of priorties."

[…that is what I was afraid of.]

"Pardon?"

[I believe it would best to have Zavala explain this,] Eris said.

The channel switched over. The voice of the Titan Vanguard Commander was as imposing as it was neutral. [Guardian Sov. Eris told us what occurred in the Shrine of Oryx. It would seem our worst fears truly have come back to haunt us…]

"Commander, regarding my refusal to return-"

Uldren was cut-off. [We can discuss that matter later. This is of dire importance. _Every_ Guardian needs to hear this, including you.] Zavala's voice was tighter than usual. He sounded disturbed. [In the last few days, we've received troubling reports of activity across the Solar System. Numerous Guardians have been found killed with their Ghosts discarded nearby. Both dead.]

The Awoken grimaced. "How many so far?"

[Too many. And that isn't even the worst of it.]

[Their Light was ripped from their very essence,] Eris continued. [Torn out of their bodies and shells. Devoured. Consumed. At the hands of the shadow you encountered in the Shrine. The Nightmare of Yor has been killing Guardians and taking their Light.]

Uldren felt a cold shudder run down his spine. The chilling memory of those glowing, inhuman eyes came back to him. The barrel of that damned gun staring him down, its thorns ready to rip him to shreds the second the trigger was pulled.

"…is there a reason why this nightmare is taking their Light? Or is he just doing it for kicks?" Uldren asked dreadfully, unsure of whether or not he wanted to hear the answer.

Zavala sighed. [Eris has a theory. And I hope it is wrong.]

"What theory?"

[The Hive on the Moon,] Eris began. [Or rather, the Hive in the Scarlet Keep, are attempting to use the Nightmares in an attempt to resurrect the old Hive Gods. Crota. Omnigul. Oryx.]

_Chilling laughter. A wave of destruction heralded by unearthly light. An explosion that wiped out so many of his kind. A face he felt so fond of, obscured and muddled, taken by the light. Leaving only him._

Uldren felt his fingers curl into a fist. His hands were trembling.

[But this Nightmare of Yor… It is worse. It has found a way to revive itself into the world. It is driven by a wanton desire; a means to resurrect. To become an embodiment of fear and anger.]

Eris Morn's words were as chilling as they were horrid.

[If it continues to devour the Light of Guardians… Dredgen Yor will return to us. More real and deadlier than ever before.]

* * *

[A New Light – Fallen Crowns]

Petra Venj watched as the newly born Guardian stumbled away, his hood pulled over his head and his gun in hand. A whirlwind of emotions was running through her mind, but all she could feel was bittersweet relief. At first, she had been shocked by their presence here at the Dreaming City. She had so many questions to ask, but they were answered when his little pink Ghost, decorated in a beautiful shell of Awoken design, greeted her and asked her for directions.

It was cute, really. She didn't know Ghosts could be so animated or cheerful, but it was a welcome distraction from the fact that she knew the Ghost's newborn Guardian.

She had found him wandering through the shores, nearly attacked by a group of frenzied Scorn. Their reaction was far more hostile than she expected, but it was understandable. The Guardian's existence was a betrayal to them; to their misshapen House. Part of Petra wondered how the Fanatic would have taken the news had the Young Wolf allowed him life.

She saved him, of course, thinking he was one of hers. Then she saw his face, then his Ghost, and understood. She offered him weapons and a ship, as well as coordinates to the Last City. She warned him those there may not take kindly to his presence, but didn't elaborate. She just couldn't find it within herself to tell him the truth.

The Guardian thanked her—_thanked her_—nonetheless, grateful for her assistance.

The memory lingered in her mind as she approached the altar, her footsteps echoing through the halls of the chamber. By the time she arrived, the chamber was already active. Her Queen was waiting.

Petra kneeled and bowed her head. "My Queen… Prince Uldren has been sent on his way."

"Has he now…" Mara Sov's voice was eerily calm. It was as if she knew of Uldren's rebirth as a Guardian. If she had, it would not have surprised the Queen's Wrath. "Does he recall his past?"

"No, he does not. He did not recognize me at all."

"I see." Mara Sov went silent. "…inform the rest of the Wrath and the Reef. Uldren Sov is no longer prince of the Awoken."

Petra stared in shock. "My Queen?!"

"Uldren is lost to us, and his crimes gone unanswered in spite of his death at your hands. He is no longer Awoken."

Mara's words were as cold as they were sad. As stoic as she was, Petra could not miss the pain and despair in her voice.

"Just as I am no longer his sister."

* * *

_One day, young hawk, thou shalt sail beneath the silvered moon_

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**: Two chapters in one day. That almost _never_ happens to me. Guess there was some good out of quarantine, but not by much.

This will probably be my last update for the month, though. I am currently working as a beta-reader for another author on this site and I am helping another author with another story that is currently in the works.

Regarding the inclusion of Grimoire Cards, what do you think? Should I keep them or leave them out? Or keep them but don't feature them as often?

Oh, and welcome to the "Shadows of Remnant" Arc. Good luck, Uldren. You're going to need it.

* * *

**REVIEWS**

Mythfan: I hope you will continue to enjoy this story.

Schmidget: Thank you. I hope you'll continue to follow this story.

The Neckbeard Knight: I don't really have a set Power Level for Uldren. His gear is pretty much what he had on him after he was resurrected, plus what few weapons he got out on the field.

Flickered Raven: I'm glad this story caught your interest, and I hope you will continue to follow this story to its conclusion.

Arrogant Comprehender: If that is a reference to something, I'm afraid you lost me.


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